You guys probably don’t know this about me, but I have a serious physical disability.
It’s been really difficult, so I don’t really like to talk about it. But I’ve concluded that if I don’t allow myself to be vulnerable, to open up and share with you people a very profound part of me, then how can I be an inspiration to other fucked up handicaps?
If you saw me in person, it wouldn’t be immediately apparent. For instance, I don’t have to use a wheelchair or crutches or anything, but it’s still a serious physical disability. It’s called Menopause.
When this first happened to me, I was very upset because I knew what struggles lay ahead… and if you don’t, just Google it. I know, I know, you’re probably thinking “How can you be upset that you’re not fucking bleeding once a month anymore?” and I’m here to tell you, it was so much more than that.
For instance, I could use it as an excuse to get out of, well, pretty much anything. Especially work, exercise, and sex. I could use it as revenge. I could use it to mark my territory, like with a boyfriend; I could easily leave a smudge on his jeans, or wallet, or sock, so everyone understood that, yeah, he’s mine.
Look, periods have meaning, period.
I should have seen it coming, I had all the symptoms: weight gain, hot flashes, an unusual fascination with anything cat related. Like I’m obsessed with watching cat videos because not only are they entertaining, they’re really educational. Have you guys seen the one with the cat that gets caught on the ceiling fan and is spun around and around until it gets flung off and thrown across the room? I learned a lot from that one and so did my cat.
I just can’t get enough of cats, I even went out and bought hand towels with cats on them. Not only that, if I don’t stay on top of my semi-annual Botox injections, I’ll have resting Grumpy Cat face.
I’m in deep.
I just want you to know I didn’t take this lightly. As soon as I got diagnosed, I did the responsible thing and immediately went to the DMV to get my handicapped placard.
I always do the right thing.
I’ve discovered once you’re in Menopause, you’re automatically banned from the opposite sex, did you know that? Men want nothing to do with me. It’s like I have leprosy or something. I guess I’m not desirable anymore just because I’m handicapped… how fucking rude! Okay, so I have some gravitational pull on my tits too, big deal. It’s not like I look like a dog that’s had several litters. However, every time I jog, I get slapped in the face by two water balloons.
Which is bullshit because I’m willing to tolerate everything that’s wrong with a man… starting with his own sagging body parts; two used wet tea bags and matching coffee stirrer (they come in a set). I am truly perplexed as to why men choose to ignore their own disabilities while judging a woman’s.
I’ll have you know, this isn’t my first time at the handicap rodeo, I have other physical disabilities that have affected me my entire life: being a woman, chubby, and blonde. But despite my physical limitations, I’m still mentally strong!… sort of. I mean, sure I have some issues like forgetfulness, suicidal thoughts, and then there’s the cat thing… but nothing a little medication could probably take care of, if I were interested in that sort of thing.
But hell, who’s got the inclination for that crap, huh? I certainly don’t. I hear it just numbs you and turns you into a zombie fuck. Well, screw that, I say! Unlike my body, I need my brain to work at full capacity in order to navigate this thing called “life”.